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Wednesday, 27 July 2016

Jen looked more like a terrified rabbit than a queenly elf, but that was fine. Abbie was happy to guide her. As long as Will played fair. The three-way vibes between them were intense, but it didn’t have to be a competition. They weren’t fighting over Jen, after all, just sharing her.‘You’re a very bad girl, you know,’ Will said, removing his hat and setting it on the desk beside his umbrella.Abbie quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Bad girls have all the fun.’‘Hmmm,’ he said, looking pointedly at Jen. ‘We shall see.’The girl blushed in response to the insinuation. Good girl, bad girl.Abbie took over and led Jen to the bed. She could feel the girl trembling beneath her hands and she stroked her hair like a pet to calm her. Jen stood obediently still as Abbie slipped the circlet off. It had left indentations in her forehead and Abbie pressed her lips against the marks. Jen shuddered beneath her kiss before reaching out tentatively to touch Abbie’s face. Abbie caught her hand and brought the girl’s fingers to her mouth, licking and sucking them in turn.Will had removed his jacket, but instead of taking off his shirt he was rolling up his sleeves. She frowned in puzzlement.‘You are a very bad girl, aren’t you,’ he said more than asked.Abbie couldn’t help but respond to the sexy authority in his voice. She gave him a sex kitten pout as she chewed a finger and traced a circle on the carpet with one high-heeled foot. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ she teased.Jen’s face went scarlet as she realised what was about to happen.Will turned Abbie around and slipped the katana off her shoulder. He pulled it from the sheath and inspected it. He flexed the plastic sword between his hands, testing its strength and clearly finding it sturdy enough for his purpose.

Thursday, 21 July 2016

I clasp my hands behind my back, grateful for the submissive posture. I couldn’t bear having to keep them at my sides and inside I plead not to have to.Now there is the creak of a chair and a hint of movement in the shadows. The room grows a little brighter and I can make out the silhouette of a man as he stands and moves towards me. He is tall and intimidating, his voice deep and resonant.I lower my head, keeping my eyes down as I’ve been taught. I have no control over what will happen next.‘It’s time,’ he says.His voice makes me weak. I feel lightheaded, as though I might faint.‘Put your hands on your head.’It’s a simple command, one I can easily obey. Gratitude washes over me as I lace my fingers on top of my hair. The position forces me to raise my head and I see him for the first time. His eyes are dark and brooding, his expression inscrutable. I can’t bear the eye contact, so I drop my gaze. Before I can focus on the floor, I see what he is holding. It’s a small whip. A dozen red and black tails hang from a braided handle.He notices me noticing and brings the whip up to my eye level. Then he slaps it against his palm. The sound makes me jump, and I sense that my nervousness gives him pleasure.‘Do you know why you’re here?’ he asks, his voice low and silky, full of authority.I open my mouth to speak, but at first nothing comes out but a little squeak. I clear my throat and try again. ‘Yes, sir.’His expectant silence prompts me for more.‘My master sent me to you.’ I can barely bring myself to speak the words, but I manage to force them out. ‘To test me.’‘You know of my reputation, then.’Oh yes. Who doesn’t? I am overwhelmed by the reality that I am here. Actually here. With him. My head is spinning with the impossibility.‘Hmm? I didn't hear you.’‘Yes, sir,’ I say, my own voice barely a whisper. ‘I do.’He nods, seeming pleased – both by my answer and my obvious fear. He looks like a judge about to don a black cap and sentence me to the gallows.‘Very well, then,’ he says. ‘Stand still and straight. Arch your back.’I had been expecting him to tell me to turn around. Instead, he stays in front of me and merely takes a step back. I feel my entire body begin to tremble as I realise what he intends. I lock my knees and inhale deeply.

Monday, 6 June 2016

With one hand he places a finger against my lips and pushes me back down with the other. ‘First we have to deal with the little matter of your trespassing.’I close my eyes as my stomach takes a roller-coaster plunge. My thighs press themselves together.I must have murmured something that sounded like a question because he’s suddenly standing over me again, peering down solemnly. ‘I don’t think that can go unpunished. Do you?’I squirm, blushing furiously. ‘No,’ I whisper at last.His eyebrows go up. ‘No? No what?’Another powerful jolt of pleasure surges through me. ‘No, sir.’He smiles. ’Good girl.’I watch as he crosses the room to the dressing table, where a selection of objects is scattered. An ebony grooming set. Christopher selects one of the objects and hefts it in his hand, as though testing the weight. I tremble as I realise what it is. A hairbrush.When he returns to the bed with it, I can hardly breathe. I just stare at it, wide-eyed and fearful, absolutely unable to speak. My silent compliance seems to please him. Although his expression is severe, at least there is the hint of a smile in his eyes.He lays the hairbrush on the nightstand and sets about unfastening the silken ropes from the curtains around the bed. He takes his time, gently untangling each knot before slipping it free of the material. My heart bangs in my chest, pounding in time to the throbbing between my legs.I want him to hurry, to get it over with. I want him to take all day.At last he comes back to me. Taking me by the arm, he pulls me up and takes the pillows from beneath my head. He piles them in the centre of the bed and nods towards them. It’s painfully obvious what he wants me to do, but I can only stare at him pleadingly. My body simply won’t move.He moves it for me, hauling me across the pile of softness, positioning me diagonally on the bed, with my bottom raised high in the air. I close my eyes, feeling lightheaded. When he ties my wrists together, I sink even deeper into a kind of submissive bliss.

Friday, 6 May 2016

Two flappers laden with shopping bags and hatboxes were giggling outside a shop window displaying Roaring 20s fashions. Suddenly, an old car screeched to a silent halt on the street behind them. The girls threw up their hands in fright, dropping their parcels as two pin-striped figures emerged from the car, holding tommy guns. They were both women. An intertitle popped up.YOU TWO! IN THE CAR!The flappers obeyed and there was a lovely closeup of them huddling together on the back seat before a dissolve relocated the action to a swanky hotel room. The kidnap victims were gagged and tied to chairs while the molls stripped out of what were presumably their gangster boyfriends’ pinstriped suits. Underneath, each wore a silk chemise and what looked like a cross between a girdle and a garter belt. The camera panned up their black-stockinged legs and over their bodies while they contrived sexy poses, chatting to each other and taunting their captives.The girls struggled against the ropes, pleading with their eyes. But the molls showed no pity. The taller one, a leggy brunette, crossed to a cupboard and took out what looked like a riding crop. She smiled cruelly as she slapped it against her palm.NO ONE DOUBLE-CROSSES US!Then the camera iris closed itself, trapping the girls inside a diminishing circle until the screen was black.

Monday, 2 May 2016

Nancy saw the lens retract as he zoomed out, widening the frame. Then he stopped. He raised his head for a moment, then lowered it back to the camera. And angled it right towards her.A little rush of delight ran down her spine and she hurriedly hid behind her own camera, watching him watching her. At first all she could see was the convex curve of his lens and a distorted reflection of colours. His right index finger gently pressed the shutter button and she swallowed hard, feeling exposed, captured. Behind the camera he was smiling. Clearly, he liked what he was seeing every bit as much as she did.She wasn’t sure what she was going to do until she did it. She set the camera down and made a big show of stretching, as though waking up from a nap. Kneeling in the grass, she began slowing unbuttoning her shirt. As she did, she fancied she could hear the rapid click of her watcher’s camera as he snapped away. She stilled the tremor in her fingers as she fumbled with the buttons, finally exposing the tight khaki tank top she wore beneath in lieu of a bra. Although the air was warm, her nipples stiffened, standing out like pebbles through the thin fabric. She blushed a little and smiled to herself as she picked up her camera again and focused it on the man.He hesitated only a moment before lowering his camera. His eyes shone with mischief and his sensual mouth curled in a smile to match hers. God, he was gorgeous! He copied her movements, unfastening his shirt, one slow button at a time, teasing her. Only he was bare-chested beneath his. Her breath caught at the sight of his lean, sculpted torso and she almost forgot to take pictures.Her heart began to race as he raised the camera again. No signal was needed, no gesture. It was her turn now.

Thursday, 11 February 2016

Come explore what editor Sacchi Green calls "the fiercer shores of sex" in Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year. It's the 20th anniversary edition and I feel very privileged that "Dust" is the lead story in the book.

It was inspired by, of all things, the cover art of Scarlet's Walk by Tori Amos. In a stained and gritty Polaroid, a woman stands alone on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere, gazing wistfully off into the distance. I just found the image so intriguing. Tori's expression looks both melancholy and hopeful and yet there's a sense of adventure about her too, as though she could go anywhere from here.

So I put the melancholy, hopeful girl in a flashy yellow Mustang and conjured the person I imagined her most wanting to meet on her long journey.

BOOK GIVEAWAY: Throughout February, we’re presenting a blog tour featuring the writers in this year’s volume of Best Lesbian Erotica. A comment on any of the posts constitutes an entry in the drawing for a free copy of the book. So go forth, read and comment! Editor Sacchi Green will randomly pick a winner by 28 February and announce the winner by 5 March.

The Library Journal gave the book a starred review and said of my story:

Thursday, 1 October 2015

“I like your car,” Nina said, stroking the leather upholstery. Her hand trailed over the seat until it reached Alice’s shoulder. Then it moved lightly across her arm.Alice shivered as gooseflesh rose on her skin. Nina continued her exploration, her touch as delicate as a butterfly’s as she stroked Alice’s arm, her shoulder, then down her side. When Nina reached her thigh, Alice couldn’t suppress a little gasp. The teasing fingers danced for a moment on her jeans, then slipped down between Alice’s legs. The car wobbled on the road and Nina laughed, a soft, musical sound. But she didn’t stop. She pressed her hand deep into the warm hollow, pushing the hard denim seam right up against Alice’s sex.Alice closed her eyes for a moment, then forced them open, forced herself to concentrate on driving. It was impossible to focus with Nina’s hand tormenting her so sweetly. “Please,” she moaned, not wanting her to stop. Ever.Nina leaned over, her lips tantalizingly close. She smelled of dust and honey. “Alice,” she whispered, “pull over.”Alice immediately slowed the car and guided it off the road. It crunched to a stop in a rocky patch of scrub between two sprawling Joshua trees. She switched off the engine and closed her eyes, listening to the pounding of her heart in her ears. She was afraid that when she looked again, the girl would be gone, vanished into the sky like the dust devil.But she didn’t need to see to know that she hadn’t been abandoned. Nina’s fingers were working at the buttons of her shirt.Alice opened her eyes, taking in the sight of Nina’s face, tribal-scarred by the shadows of the desert trees above them.“You’re so beautiful,” she managed to whisper.“So are you,” Nina said, her voice low and husky. Her lips grazed Alice’s throat, making her shudder. And then they kissed.from "Dust" by Rose de Fer

About Me

Rose de Fer sees the sensual in the strange and she loves the view from the edge. She lives in England with her husband, who feeds her wine and raw meat and keeps the chains tight when the moon is full.